


Musings of a Rightful Ruler

by thewritershaianna



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritershaianna/pseuds/thewritershaianna
Summary: Is Ganondorf truly evil, or did he believe the Triforce truly belonged to him?
Kudos: 3





	Musings of a Rightful Ruler

**Author's Note:**

> **For Linktoberzine application**

**Musings of a Rightful Ruler**

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

Stone pillars lined the long hallway, reaching far above the pacing, red-headed man. The echo of his heavy boots bounced from one grey stone wall to the other, a slow, steady beat to which he mulled over his thoughts, awaiting his meeting with the Hylian King. Slowly, Ganondorf turned on his heel, pacing in the opposite direction, his eyes focused on the smooth stone beneath him.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

A knight stood before a large door at the end of the hallway. He cleared his throat. “Sir, I assure you, His Majesty shouldn’t be much longer, if you’re growing inpati—”

Ganondorf held up his left hand to silence the knight. “This is of no concern,” he spoke, glancing up to look at the man, giving him a well-practiced smile. “I will wait for His Majesty.” His eyes caught a glimpse of the back of his hand, purposely covered by a glove, save for the tips of his fingers, the olive-toned, deeply tanned skin a stark contrast to the fair-skinned Hylian. He put his hand back down and stuffed them inside the front pockets of his pants, continuing his solitary march.

His thoughts swirled around him, polluting the sunlit air, hazing his sight. He sighed. _Yes, I must wait._ _Patience will pay off in the end_ , he thought. But how the waiting pained him. Was this not destiny he was waiting for? And if it was destiny, why did it require of him so much effort, forethought, planning, and deception? Should not destiny be…easy, more tangible than _this_?

Yet, what is more fitting than this? What more suitable than the destiny, rightfully belonging to the King of Thieves, to be stolen back from the greedy hands that selfishly hold it, suffocating it, hiding it from its true purpose. Yes, these greedy hands kept what was rightfully his, dangling it before his very eyes. A measured, purposeful withholding. How evil they were.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

He turned on his heel again, lifting his gaze to the high, rounded ceiling. His thoughts swirled again, floating back to his previous venture through the land of Hyrule, a mere week ago. The trek into the lush forest of the Kokiri, the tall, treacherous mountain of the Gorons, and the cool, shimmery domain of the Zora proved fruitless…initially. Though he thought himself well-spoken and convincing, the guardians of the spiritual stones were less than willing to part with their precious relics. His jaw clenched at the thought of their vanity and egotism. How selfish they were, holding that which was not theirs.

Yet he had prepared for their rejection. Giving the guardians a chance to surrender their relics was merely a display of his grace, a chance for them to turn from their selfish ways. It was their unwillingness to participate that left him no choice but to rightfully punish them.

Their selfish actions would lead to destruction to more than themselves. Their people, their land, and the innocent. Their actions, as well as the King’s. With a child-like giddiness and disbelief at his good fortune, he thought back to an earlier encounter with King Rhoam, only a few weeks prior. Rhoam had leaned forward, one elbow on the mahogany table propping his head up, the other holding a jeweled chalice filled to the brim with his third helping of wine.

“Can I tell you something,” he had said, his voice thick.

Ganondorf had quickly nodded, as this had been an opportunity he was waiting for.

“My daughter, she had this…vision,” he said, jutting his chalice in the air. Wine sloshed down his hand, dripping onto his plate. “Dark clouds, betrayal, evil, you name it, it was there. Now, she’s usually spot on, these visions are. To be honest with you, I don’t believe it.” The king took a long draw of wine, then wiped his lips, setting his cup down and folding his hands under his chin.

“You don’t believe what, your Majesty?”

“Hyrule is thriving; our economy is booming, trade is seamless, and the people are happy. Our connections with other nations has never been stronger—” he pointed at Ganondorf, then at himself “—than it is right now.” He shook his head. “I will not instill needless fear into our people. It must have been a simple misunderstanding.”

How _foolish_ he was to ignore his gifted daughter’s prophetic insights: the dark clouds, slowly swirling themselves among the light clouds, seducing them into a dance that would lead to their demise. Yes, how unfortunate for the King, but how fortunate for him.

One thing, however, stayed consistently on his mind, a flittering annoyance that pestered him, an insufferable insect that buzzed with trivial persistence. Princess Zelda’s prophecy, one that Ganondorf truly believed, spoke of a boy from the forest, one who would restore light to Hyrule. One who would right the wrongs of the land, bring peace to its people, and vanquish evil. Though he hardly thought himself as _evil_ , the tendency of the royalties of Hyrule to victimize themselves against any opposing power, no matter how rightful that power was, left no doubt in his mind that he, Ganondorf, was the evil entity of which this measly child would attempt to stop.

Her vision mirrored the prophecy.

_Yes, the prophecy_ , he thought, casting a furtive look at the dorsal side of his left hand. _Could this boy be the other part of the prophecy, the opposing power, the demise of his rightful claim and hard work?_

He stared out of a window, a lush garden sprawled out beneath it, a drastic contrast from the dry, brown tundra of the Gerudo Valley, his home.

The garden was green, bright, innocent. The boy was as well.

_The boy._

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

Now, he only awaited the boy, this chosen hero. _Ha!_ The thought was laughable. This boy may very well be chosen, but he was _destined_. Destiny was definite, decided. As darkness always followed day, he too would snuff out the figurative light. Oh, how the prophecy was twisted! It knew no right or wrong, nor who the rightful ruler was.

He only needed the keys, the keys to which would open the Sacred Realm, and reveal to him, its rightful ruler, the secrets unbeknownst to those but the Goddesses. How sad it was, that the story had to play out this way. The boy, chosen to face the immoveable darkness, by a sick twist of fate, an oversight of the Goddesses. They were all fools. This boy was chosen, but only for death and defeat. A pig to slaughter.

Yet he musn’t make any hasty decisions. No, the boy must first do his work, he who holds the keys to the Sacred Realm. And once his purpose was fulfilled, the light would be snuffed out forever. But he must wait.

The distinct creak of a hinge stopped him dead in his tracks. A guard cleared his throat behind him.

“Sir, His Majesty will see you now.”

Ganondorf turned his large frame around to face two knights on either side of a set of grand, wooden doors. A painting of Hyrule’s beloved emblem, the Triforce, representing the treasure he so desperately sought, split in half as the doors swung toward him. _How ironic_ , Ganondorf thought to himself.

King Rhoam stood on an elevated platform beyond the doors, a regal, velvet cape flowing from his shoulders.

The King. _His_ Majesty.

_Not for long_ , he thought, the clunking of his boots now muted as he approached Hyrule’s revered ruler, planting careful steps onto the carpet below him: blue, with an intricate, gold border. He inhaled, painting a silky smile onto his tanned face, and removed his hands from his pockets. Best not to look too threatening.

“Your Majesty,” said Ganondorf, dropping a knee and bowing his head. Such a humiliating position. He eyes focused on the blue carpet beneath him, his teeth clenched. Soon it would be over; soon he would bow to no one.

A flash of green out of the corner of his periphery caught his attention. Was it a leaf, blowing in the wind, catching a ray of sunshine and volleying it back at him? He inclined his head slowly, casting a furtive glance at the window to his left, and he had to contain his excitement. His heart pounded in his chest. Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at him, disappearing from sight the moment their eyes connected with his. Another flash of green, a fluttering of a cloth cap.

_The boy, he’s with Zelda._ Ganondorf directed his focus back to the carpet, and a small, almost unnoticeable smile crept onto his face. _Perfect,_ he thought to himself, fighting back the urge to laugh.

The boy was here, just beyond the window; the young boy who would open the door, who would fulfill his duty. What an honor he unknowingly possessed, sacrificing himself for who would be the greatest ruler Hyrule’s history would ever know. This boy would open the door, make the way, for the true king.

This must be the easy part of destiny.


End file.
